Tempus fu**it! (Again...)

Golly! Do I get to do stuff like this, as I glide sedately and curmudgeonly into my seventieth year? What fun! "Senile Agitation" has a ring to it, don't you think?

Lambasting whipper-snappers, showing upstarts the error of their ways. The bugger on the left even resembles me somewhat. That's my sixties kipper tie from Mr. Fish he's wearing, damn it! Oh, well... maybe not.

Talking of whipper-snappers, the daughter has just admitted to a 'tempus fu**it' moment: the sudden awareness that she has less than twelve weeks more of schooling before she completes her Abitur. Then what, she asks herself.

I remember having a similar realization myself. In those days there was no such thing as a 'gap' year. Finishing high school meant saying goodbye to the state opf Maine and hello to Texas. That weasn't as adventurous or enterprising as it sounds, since it was a move we made as a family. And my four years of college were a fixed point on my horizon.

Anyhow, daughter will now have to find her own path to place herself shoulder-to-shoulder with the smart people.

She can leave the others to me, they'll be my victims of massive senile agitation!